On Publicity Stunts and Prejudice
by writers-and-ravens
Summary: The War is over- but tensions remain. In an effort to prevent further violence, Headmistress McGonagall comes up with a plan. Enter a bunch of war heroes, a nice Draco Malfoy (who knew?), and a raggedy old hat, and things might just work out.


**On Publicity Stunts and Prejudice**

**Chapter 1 - Morning Antics**

**Author's Note****: **Hi, everyone! It's ya girl, Nadia, here. I'm glad to be back in the fanfiction world- albeit not in the way many of you have hoped. I'm giving the Harry Potter universe a try this time around. I've read thousands of works and have a greater grasp of the themes, plot lines and characters- so hopefully I'll be able to stick to completing this fic. It might even inspire me to finish my other work… but I doubt it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. Pretty obvious, yeah?\

* * *

With a loud thud, the Daily Prophet landed on the coffee table.

The three people seated nearby jumped to their feet simultaneously, pressing their backs against each other in a defensive stance. Wands in hand, spells in mind, they each scanned the room, ready for an attack. Such a motion came to the former child soldiers with ease- the cost of surviving. After casting his eyes over the paper, and the poor, shocked owl that had delivered it, Ron slowly placed his wand back on the table from where he had grabbed it, and resumed his seat on the couch. Harry and Hermione soon followed suit, sharing awkward smiles. "Look at us!" Ron chuckled, "Bloody war heroes, scared of the paper!"

Taking a moment to shake his head, he gestured to the paper in question, and exclaimed, "Now, that's an article I reckon the Prophet needs to get onto. Not the rubbish they've been putting out lately," he finished, looking pointedly at Harry, seated opposite, who had ceased his laughter and begun to look slightly nauseous. The Daily Prophet, namely, Rita Skeeter, had been weaving a tale of sordid romance between the famous war hero and his beloved 'Death Eater pet', Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy family had remained silent on the issue, different to the outrage that would have been expected in the past. Hermione supposed they could use all the publicity they could get. The reports had been almost constant since the Final Battle, after Malfoy inadvertently demonstrated his true loyalty, throwing Harry the wand he needed to defeat Voldemort. Skeeter had faked photographs, forged witness statements, amongst other equally illegal actions, to prove their supposed affair. It had become a light-hearted topic of conversation for the trio, fending off the darkness of the past few years. Seated beside the 'Saviour' himself, Hermione laughed loudly at the mention of it. "Oh, but it makes so much sense!" she exclaimed. Ron guffawed loudly, the typical response to this line of conversation. Fighting his own laughter, Harry turned to her, stuttering, "It's – it's not even that funny! Stop it!" Hermione laughed harder, gasping for air.

"Your obsession wi-" she wheezed slightly, cleared her throat, and continued, "your obsession with him in sixth year! It all makes sense!" This only served to annoy Harry further, and he glared darkly at the ground in mock anger. "Oh, yeah, that. Not like he was a DEATH EATER or anything."

Mrs. Weasley, having chose the wrong time to enter the living room, coughed slightly. "Breakfast is ready, dears. Is everything alright?"

The three broke out into laughter once more. After a few moments of being subjected to Molly's increasingly worried gaze, Ron, ever the eloquent one, spoke out, "We're fine, Mum. Just teasing Harry about the Prophet." An audible sigh of relief could be heard from the twice war veteran, and she quickly returned to the kitchen. Turning around, Ron wrapped one arm over Harry's shoulder and messed up his already quite frazzled bed hair. "Don't worry, mate, we still love ya. Even if he is a Death Eater. New beginnings and all that. C'mon, let's eat!"

Shaking his head and laughing, Harry trailed after Ron into the kitchen. Noticing Hermione was still at the table, with no clear sign of going anywhere, he stopped. "Everything alright there 'Mione?" Glancing up from the front page of the Prophet, she smiled. "Harry.. Look at this!"

**"NO MORE BLOOD WARS: HOGWARTS STUDENTS TO BE RE-SORTED"**

In a controversial move, newly instated Hogwarts Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, has ordered the removal of a blood purity charm placed on the Sorting Hat. The charm, dating back the Founders, has ensured for centuries that muggle-born students, except those of extraordinary Slytherin tendency, are not placed in the infamous Hogwarts house. Despite opposition from some on the Board of Governors, the charm is set to be removed by the end of this week, in preparation for the school term which begins this Wednesday, September 1st. Many of the Sacred Twenty-Eight have backed the decision, with the notable exceptions of the Greengrass and Parkinson families. Lord Draco Malfoy, having recently inherited the title from his deceased father, was asked his thoughts to which he simply stated that it was _"about time"_.

In a statement, the Headmistress has said:

_"We have spent too long allowing prejudice to grow in the minds of our children instead of knowledge. We are not in the Dark Ages, and as such, there is no need to fear the integration of muggle-raised children into our world. Muggle technology has advanced to a level that explains away magic as natural, "scientific" anomaly… and besides, the idea of magic being lesser or stolen when present in muggle-born students is quite outrageous. I hope this decision will ensure that no battle will ever again take place on Hogwarts grounds, or anywhere, because of the idiotic notion of blood purity."_

Interim Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, has also embraced the decision. As a member of the renowned Order of the Phoenix, the Minister is well-known for being forward-thinking and welcoming of change. (CONT. PAGE 6)

Breaking into a grin, Harry tucked the paper under his arm and offered the remaining arm to Hermione. "Well, Brightest Witch of Her Age, let's go tell the others!" Rising from her seat on the sofa, Hermione smirked and linked her arm with his and said, "Very well, Chosen One, let's go eat."

* * *

"I'm very disappointed in you, Draco."

Glancing up from his breakfast, the striking form of Narcissa Malfoy stood opposite of where he sat.

"What now, Mother?" He said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "If it's about Potter, again, I promise you that I am not interested." He snorted, but no humour reached his eyes. A tired, lingering darkness haunted his gaze. The gaze of someone who had seen too much, too young. Soft footsteps echoed through the room as Narcissa glided towards her son- her eyes, too, dark and tired. "Not Potter, no," she sighed, placing a copy of the Daily Prophet beside him. Draco quickly read the article, finding the mention of his name with ease. "I am creating a better public image for this family, doing what Father could not. We've discussed this, Mother," he said, exasperated. "Blood purity is a farce."

"That is not what I take issue with, you know that," she said, waving her hand in a dismissive fashion. "You should have released a full statement! If we are going to manage this- this- integration of which everyone speaks, a measly quote is not enough." The worried expression his mother wore forced Draco to take her concerns seriously. "I've been speaking with the Headmistress. Don't worry, Mother, I have it under control." Reaching over, he took her hands in his. "I promise you, one day, you'll be able to see your grandchildren getting their first wands in Ollivander's. You'll be able to help them shop for school books. You'll be free. We'll be free." Nodding slightly, Narcissa turned away, a question forming in her mind. The Headmistress? Curious. Thinking that perhaps there was a better time to plan their reintroduction to society, she spoke instead and said, "I love you, Draco. With all my heart. I really do. I just worry... after all that has happened-"

"You needn't worry," Draco interrupted, his expression sincere. "I love you too, Mother. After all that has happened, as you say, I know that now, more than anything." She nodded, tears beginning to form in her eyes, so much like her son's. He quickly moved and embraced her. In a gentle voice, he said, "The elves have told me that your roses are coming along well. Why don't you take a break and tend to them?"

* * *

It was during breakfast that the real chaos began. The hiss of the Floo and an unexpected guest had the entire room on their feet this time, wands in hand. The flustered and slightly fearful face of Minerva McGonagall made an appearance, and a collective sigh was heard. "Oh, my dear. Please do warn us next time! These have been dark times, Minny, we're still a bit frazzled," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling warmly and embracing the elder Scottish woman. The Headmistress, to the shock of most of the room, hugged her back fiercely. Whispering, she said, "I am so terribly sorry for your loss, Molly. Fred was always such a bright boy. I hope what I ask today will mean it will never happen to another mother, ever again." Mrs. Weasley nodded, and breathed deeply, forcing a smile onto her face. Returning to her husband's side, the entire room waited expectantly for the Headmistress to announce her business.

Quickly brushing the remaining soot off her characteristic green robes, and McGonagall addressed the room. "I apologise for the interruption, but this is a matter of great urgency. As you are probably aware, the Sorting Hat is going to have the blood purity charm removed from it. What you are probably not aware of, is that students will be given the opportunity to be resorted."

The room was oddly silent, considering the number of Weasleys. It didn't last long.

"You want to do what?" Ron exclaimed. He seemed almost offended by the idea, jaw slack in open mouthed shock, brows rising incredulously. Slapping his arm lightly, Hermione spoke. "I think it's wonderful, Headmistress. Ronald, it's voluntary, so stop looking so irritated. It's not like you're being resorted!"

Shutting his mouth, he muttered, "Yeah, guess you're right, 'Mione."

McGonagall coughed somewhat awkwardly at this. "Actually, it was my hope, that you three, as the so-called 'Golden Trio', would stand and be resorted before the students. An act of encouragement, as you will…"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "A publicity stunt like this... it will only further entrench the new values we wish to encourage. Inter-house unity is, after all, a major part of combatting the pureblood ideology." Looking at the others, she asked, "Are we in?" Ron was silent, brows furrowed in deep thought. Harry spoke up. He had been almost silent the entire time. "No-one knows this... but when I was Sorted, the Hat desperately wanted to put me in Slytherin. I'm unsure if it was the Horcrux or me… I'd like to have that question answered. I'm in." Ginny turned to Harry then, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The non-verbal communication the couple demonstrated so frequently had only further cemented their compatibility in the minds of their family and friends, but to Hermione, it brought back memories of the War. Harry and Ginny had been a power couple in the Death Eater fallout after Voldemort's defeat, when the stragglers from the battle had to be rounded up. Their bodies were so in sync it was almost mesmerising to watch, each sending hexes and Stunning Spells in rapid succession, stepping in with shield charms when necessary to cover each other's backs. This synchronisation had continued throughout their relationship and had ultimately been the inspiration for Ron and Hermione's breakup. No matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't make it work. It was like placing two puzzle pieces together- except they're from different puzzles. The break-up had been mutual, and the two had remained close ever since.

"If Harry's in, I may as well give it a crack. Hermione?" Ron gazed questioningly at her. She nodded then, deep in thought. She doubted she would be placed in Gryffindor again. Her intellect had only been honed during the War, her knack for memorisation a key part of Voldemort's defeat. Hermione silently prepared herself for the inevitable- she would be an honourary Ravenclaw, no doubt.

"Then it is agreed," the Headmistress' familiar Scottish brogue spoke. "If you would, we are holding the Resorting on September 1st. Others of equal public notoriety will also be present, if that is amenable."

The trio nodded, "Of course, Headmistress," Hermione spoke. The elder witch chuckled at this, "Oh, please, forgo the title. Minerva or Minny, if you will. We fought a war together! You may as well use my given name." Hermione smiled hesitantly at this, brushing the faint scar on her neck absentmindedly. She was still coming to terms with her torture at Malfoy Manor, and any mention of the War brought the dark times forth in her mind. Ron and Harry, knowing this all too well, both moved to touch her shoulders comfortingly. They were all too well acquainted with her screams. "Oh, thank you for the honour, Minerva. Please, call me Hermione, as well." The boys nodded their assent, "Us too. You were a right sight on the battlefield, it really is an honour to call you Minerva."

The others in the room had remained quiet, watching on with interest. It was Arthur that spoke up, posing a question. "So, Minerva, how is the resorting going to work? It will be a very long Welcoming Feast."

"Oh, not everyone will be resorted on that night. We will begin with the 'celebrity sorting', and then move onto the First Years. Throughout the next few weeks we will leave a room available with a staff member for all those who are interested to come and be resorted." The room nodded at this, the idea seemed reasonable. "Well, I'm afraid I must be off, I need to ask a few more people to join the Resorting. Apologies for the interruption, again, Molly. Good day, everyone!" A murmured response of farewell echoed through the room, quickly followed by the swoosh of the Floo as the Headmistress left.

"Well, that was an interesting start to the day, wasn't it?" Ron said, "But, c'mon, I'm bloody hungry. Can we eat now?" The room erupted into laughter, even George, who's laugh was rarely heard these days. He walked over to Ron and embraced his younger brother. "Aww, is little Ronniekins hungry? Won't be little by the time you're done, though!" George made a quick dash to the table to escape Ron's wrath, but couldn't escape the screams of, "Oi, are you calling me fat? Get back here!"

Molly looked tired, but leant into Arthur's arms and whispered to him, "I've missed this." Smiling down at her, he replied simply, "So have I, love, so have I."


End file.
